


Brain and Heart

by Calamidad



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Consent Issues, Domestic Violence, F/M, M/M, Medical Conditions, Medical Procedures, Physical Disability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:43:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8676811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calamidad/pseuds/Calamidad
Summary: Theon's and Robb's life is turned upside down when a violent incident leaves Theon with permanent injuries. They can't get back to normal, so they do their best at getting to "OK" and staying there.





	1. How It All Begins

**Author's Note:**

> None of these characters belong to me. They were all created by George R. R. Martin. I seek no profit.  
> I did read up on the type of injury suffered by one of the main characters, but I can't claim I fully understood everything I read.  
> Please pay attention to the tags. If you think there's something I should tag/warn about, please let me know. 
> 
> Last but not least, please enjoy this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter is the one that provides the graphic violence. It also includes domestic violence and way too much of the human services system. There may be other triggering material that I may not be considering. Reader discretion is advised.

It is a nice day, the last day of Theon Greyjoy’s old life.

He gets up early, showers, and gets dressed. After he brews coffee for two and gulps down his breakfast, he goes back to the bedroom to finish getting ready. He sits on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes, narrowly missing a nearby lump under the covers. Smirking, he pokes the lump until he hears an indignant  yelp.

“Morning, sunshine!” he yells.

The lump stirs and a disembodied voice comes out. “Go away.”

“Do you need me to throw a bucket of water on you?” Theon asks. A head full of disheveled red curls emerges from under the covers. It belongs to Robb, his husband of 13 months. Theon flashes him a big fat grin. Robb does not smile back. Instead he glares, but Theon does not mind.

“If you don’t get up now, you are not getting up at all,” Theon says, smirking. He’s not a morning person but it amuses him to pretend to be one when Robb is barely conscious. Robb has told him more than once that this perky morning act is nowhere near as funny or endearing as he thinks. Theon just rolled his eyes each time; Robb can be annoying too, when he wants to be. Like the time...

“Coffee ready?” Robb mumbles, derailing Theon’s train of thought.

“And waiting for you,” Theon says.

Groaning, Robb sits up and throws off the covers. Eyes barely open, he shuffles to the bathroom like an old man. Later, still in his pajamas, he sips his coffee at the table and watches Theon get things ready for that night’s dinner. Whenever it’s his turn to cook, he plans ahead and it pays off. Chicken marinates overnight; steak is rubbed with seasoning and cooked to its juicy best. Vegetables get set aside, to be cut up and cooked (but not overcooked) later. Spices and seasoning beyond salt and sugar are used. Robb’s idea of cooking involves frozen lasagna or reheating leftovers from something Theon cooked.

“Hey Robb, I was thinking…”

“That’s a good sign.”

“Heh, very funny. I was wondering, you wanna ride up the King’s trail this weekend? Weather should be good.”

“I dunno. Maybe.”

“Come on. I'll do all the work. My bike is already tuned up and I can do yours tomorrow.”

Robb manages a nod. Ever since Theon learned how to ride a bicycle without training wheels and discovered that it was the closest he would come to flying, he’s been passionate about it. Robb is nowhere as enthusiastic about cycling as Theon is (he is more of a runner; Theon simply refuses to believe running is something that can be done for pleasure) but he likes that there is an outdoor activity they both can enjoy.

“Cool.” Theon glances at his watch. “Gotta go!” He grabs his jacket and his keys, and rushes out, but not without planting a peck on Robb’s forehead.

Even though Robb is still not entirely awake, he can't help himself. He grabs Theon’s shoulder, pulls him down and throws his arms around Theon, squeezing him hard.

Theon laughs. “C’mon, I am going to be late.” He makes a feeble attempt at escaping Robb’s embrace.

“I don't care. Stay with me,” Robb says.

“I have to go. And you are messing my hair,” Theon protests, rolling his eyes. But he returns the hug nonetheless. They exchange another quick kiss, and Robb lets him go.

“Love you!” Theon yells on his way out the door.

Over the next 7 days Robb will wonder if he said “I love you” back. He thinks he did. He must have, he always does. He just doesn't remember it.

At the office, Theon greets his colleagues and checks his schedule. The first item is a meeting, attendance mandatory, to make sure everyone is briefed on an update to a basic procedure. Theon stifles a groan. He knows it’s going to be a waste of time. Their boss merely reads out loud information that is already online. And just like Theon suspects, no time is allowed for questions. At least he stays awake through it, unlike the guy sitting next to him.

Next, a home visit. He reviews the case file. Theon is cautiously optimistic about the outcome.  It all started when mom Jeyne entered drug rehab and trusted –maybe “hoped” was a bit more accurate– that her husband could deal on his own with their son for a few weeks. But then RJ’s preschool teacher saw bruises on his arms and the non-explanation Dad offered (“You know how boys are…”) did not convince her. One phone call, and Social Services intervened. The boy was removed from their home and placed in emergency custody, pending an investigation. A ruling from Family Court stipulated that little RJ was to be placed in the care of Jeyne’s sister for the time being until authorities were convinced it would be safe for him to return home. Both Jeyne and her husband were issued a plan to follow to regain custody: supervised visits, a parenting class, drug tests, the works. Jeyne has told Theon that she tried to talk to her husband about what had happened in a calm, rational manner over dinner. The “calm, rational” discussion ended with him sweeping all the dishes off the table and a slammed door. While she picked up the shards off the floor and wiped the splatters off the wall she realized, well, not just what she needed to do, but that she was capable of doing it.

It was easier said than done, but she’d moved out of the home she’d shared with her husband and in with her mother. Next step was filing for divorce. No amount of pleading, guilt-tripping, or thinly-veiled threats from him would convince her to return. When he slashed her tires, she got a restraining order. And she didn’t stop there. All the hoops she was told to jump to regain RJ’s custody, she jumped. She’s completed the parenting class and passed all the drug tests. She does great at all supervised visits, has found a new place to live, and will soon start a full-time job.

As happy as Theon is for Jeyne, it's not over yet. Today he has to check that Jeyne’s new apartment is an appropriate home for her and RJ. Deep down he knows it will be, but he still needs to see it with his own eyes. He grabs his jacket, checks to make sure he has everything he needs and heads to the parking lot. It’s bright out, and he slips on his sunglasses. As he drives to Jeyne’s new address, he can't help but grin. It's the fresh air, the clear blue sky, the guy playing saxophone in the street corner, the prospect of seeing Robb when he goes home. It's everything.

That’s the last thing he remembers from that day. His last day as Old Theon.

The afternoon when Theon visits Jeyne’s apartment (just like he expected, a safe environment for R.J.) also happens to be the same one when Jeyne’s ex-husband (the divorce is not final yet but things were over with him a long time ago) decides to stop by her place. As far as he is concerned, that restraining order is just a big misunderstanding. He would never hurt his Jeyne, they both know that. He only wants to talk, he loves Jeyne so much, he can't stand to live without her and RJ. If only she gave him a chance to talk! They will talk, she’ll tell him she loves him just as much as he does, they’ll work it out, and she’ll come back. She always does. She is nothing if not predictable.

Later, when a dour-looking police officer questions him as to that afternoon’s events, the ex claims that he acted in self-defense, that the caseworker attacked him first. The officer taking his statement snorts in derision at the bald-faced lie. Ex is tall and heavily muscled, much more so than that poor caseworker. In any case, they confiscate his boots and remand him to custody.

In a separate room, Jeyne is giving her own statement. She tells the officer that poor Mr. Greyjoy was on his way out, and the two of them were just making some small talk. Her ex chose that moment to burst into the apartment, yelling that he should have known a skank like her would be… well she does not want to repeat what he said, if that’s OK? She yelled at him to leave or she’d call the police (“ _Can’t you read? It says ‘500 feet at all times’, not 5!_ ”). That was when he turned his attention to the caseworker, poor guy.

That man, bless his heart, stood his ground and tried to calm down her ex. “Sir, I get that you are upset. I don’t blame you. I would be too, this is definitely a stressful situation. But before you do anything, please think of R.J.” While her ex was distracted, she actually dialed 911 on her phone. Enough was enough.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!?”

That was when he completely lost it and… She can’t keep talking, she’s choking up. (“ _Yes, a glass of water would be nice, thank you.”)_

Before she knew it, his hands were around her neck and choking her. She can still feel his grip on her, the bruises he left. Mr. Greyjoy, bless his soul, had tried to pull him away from her. That beast… he’d let go of her but then grabbed the smaller man by the lapels and threw him against the wall, hard. As he collapsed to the ground, all she could do was watch helplessly, knowing she was next. She heard him yell, and by the time his words registered (“ _Get out, Jeyne! Get help!”_ ) her ex had already smashed Mr. Greyjoy’s head against the floor a few times.

Since the front door was blocked there was only one other way out. She ran to the master bedroom and locked herself in. Just as her ex kicked the door open, she climbed out the window and jumped out. How she managed to do that from a second floor without getting badly hurt, she doesn't know.

Everything else is a blur of sirens and gawking neighbors, two police officers escorting her ex out in handcuffs, an unconscious Mr. Greyjoy being wheeled out on a gurney.

She doesn’t know what’s going to happen now. She doesn’t even care what the police will do with her ex-husband, as long as he can’t hurt anybody. All she knows is that if it had not been for her caseworker, she would have been the target of her husband’s fury. “He saved my life. He is not going to die, is he?”

“I don’t know, Ms. Poole. All I can tell you is that he was taken to the closest hospital,” the officer says.

“He can’t die… he just can’t. I won’t forgive myself if...This is all my fault,” she sobs. The officer has to tell her several times that she is not responsible for her ex’s actions.

Robb does not find out the full story and all its grisly details until much later, when he attends the ex-husband’s trial for, among other charges, aggravated assault. He forces himself to pay attention. He wills himself to show no emotion when an expert from the M.E.’s office reads from a report on Theon’s injuries. He manages to keep the facade until he hears her say that the “victim” sustained patterned contusions on both arms indicating “foot kick/stomping”, as if he was trying to shield his head. And then he just… he needs to get out from that courtroom, but his knees fail him when he tries to stand up. So he sits back down and stays there until the hearing is done for the day.

Theon has no memory of anything that happened that afternoon after leaving the office, let alone the incident that turns both their lives upside down. It's not until much later that he is able to ask what happened, why is he in the hospital. The first time, he dozes off before he gets his answer. The second time, a doctor says he took a blow to the head. Within 10 minutes, Theon asks again. Even when he becomes able to retain the answer, he can’t really process it. How can he come so close to dying and not be able to remember it happening?!

But all of that is in the future. That afternoon, Robb gets a phone call telling him that Theon is in the hospital and that there has been an “incident”. He asks what happened but the caller does not give him details. Of course he imagines the worst as he drives to Lann Memorial, but then he chides himself. He does have a tendency to imagine the worst case scenario. Most likely Theon just tripped on a stray computer cord or something, and now has to deal with stitches or a sprained ankle. He does not realize at the time that the phone call marks the end of their old life.


	2. In Between

There is a long period between the end of their old life and the beginning of their new life.

It involves emergency surgery, a high-risk procedure that might save Theon's life. There are no guarantees, of course.

It involves a coma. It involves ardent prayers from Robb even though he is not religious. As days go by, his prayers become less and less ambitious, perhaps to increase the chance that they will come true. _Please let him get out of this and be OK. Please let him wake up, I don’t care how he comes out. Please let him live, I can’t go on without him. Please don’t let him be in pain. If he is in pain, please let the doctors make him comfortable. Please give me strength to say “pull the plug” if it comes to that. Please don’t make me have to say pull the plug, fuck being strong enough. Please help me, I don’t know what to pray for anymore._

It involves Robb’s family stopping by. Of course they can do nothing for Theon, but they make it their job to take care of Robb. They make sure he eats food that doesn’t come from a vending machine, they keep him distracted with what’s going on with their own lives. His mom convinces him to go home and rest. (“And shower!” pipes in his youngest sister. She is rewarded with a glare from her mother.) And best of all, they don’t spout platitudes or give false hope. They know better. Between his younger brother’s accident, his grandfather’s illness, and his father’s death, they are all too familiar with hospital waiting rooms.

It involves concerned phone calls from one of Theon’s co-workers. They all want to know how he is doing, they are rooting for him. Robb thanks her politely for her interest.

It even involves the presence of Theon’s sister, the only relative of Theon’s to show up. Asha Greyjoy is a force of nature who can handle everything that life throws at her. But this is a situation beyond her control, beyond everyone’s. So she’s very subdued (for her, anyway) and looks as lost as he is. Robb can’t explain why, but he finds that fact comforting. Like if she can be overwhelmed by what’s going on, then it is OK for him to be too.

Then one day Theon wakes up, or rather, starts to wake up.

* * *

“Wake up.” Robb scoffs at the term. Like Theon is a male Sleeping Beauty and after only a kiss, will open his eyes and wonder what the fuss is about.

No. The truth is that there is nothing peaceful about Theon's condition, or any of this. His face is swollen and bruised. He has tubes coming out of his head, his arms, his nose, everywhere. Sometimes his arms and legs spasm. And he is not silent. Robb can hear him moan or groan, like he’s in terrible pain. It breaks his heart to see Theon like this.

Every day, a doctor stops by and checks his reflexes, his response to pain, under Robb’s worried eye. They ask Theon to open his eyes, move a finger, anything, but nothing. For the longest time, there is no change. And each day, Robb becomes more and more afraid.

But one day, Theon does open his eyes when asked. At first he only keeps them open for a little bit, then longer and longer each day. Later he answers “yes” or “no” questions by nodding. And an ecstatic Robb celebrates each bit of progress, no matter how small. The doctor warns him not to have false hopes, each step could be the last, but he refuses to believe that.

* * *

“So, how do you like your new room, huh!” Robb says brightly. From his bed, Theon does not say anything. He just stares off into space. But Robb is not expecting a response anyway. Theon may have progressed beyond just nodding or shaking his head, but at best he can only manage to croak out a word. _Robb. Hurts. Cold._ The rest of the time, he only groans and gesticulates feebly. That, when he is not sleeping. Not that there is not much to say about the room anyway. It’s just another impersonal hospital room with a bed, off-white walls, and nondescript furniture.

No, what makes this room significant is what it means. Theon’s condition has improved enough that he has been transferred from Intensive Care to another ward of the hospital. Robb is glad. Both he and Asha will be able to be there for longer periods of time, as visiting hours are not as restricted as in the ICU.

“You are right. A little dull. But you are not going to be in the room for too long, anyway.”

Theon turns his head toward him. His shaven scalp only emphasizes how he has wasted away.

“Yup. The doctors are talking about what to do with you if you keep getting better. They suggested transferring you to Quiet Isle Center. Heard of it?” Theon’s eyes only convey confusion and fear. “Yeah. They… they have this excellent program that will help you. They will have you doing physical therapy and other types. Dr. Luwin thinks you’ll do well in it, once you are ready. I mean, they are going to get you ready, I mean…” Robb stops himself. He is babbling. Theon scrunches his eyes, utters a sound that Robb can’t make out. “What’s that?”

“Huh. Huh… home.” The effort in making these sounds shows in Theon’s face.

“Home. Not yet.” Robb looks away for a second. He hears a whimper, rustling. Theon has rolled over so his back is facing him. Robb can’t see his face, but he can see his shoulders shuddering. The whimpering has turned to wailing.

“You are coming home soon,” Robb says to Theon, walking over and stroking his cheek. Theon closes his eyes. “Everything will be all right.” It will be. It has to be.


	3. New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon is home.

Robb used to keep careful count of the days in their new life, with Day 1 being the date Theon was discharged from the Quiet Isle Center, but not anymore. Some time after Day 130 (at least he thinks it was Day 130), he skipped a day or two and lost count. It would be easy to just grab the calendar and add up the days again from the beginning, but just thinking about it brings him down. He doesn’t need that.

Today has been an alright day, this who-knows-which-one day of their new life. Robb’s home from a good day at work. Theon is back from the outpatient program he attends daily and in a good mood. Robb cooks dinner, they eat, and Theon cleans up afterwards. A card posted above the sink lists the steps; otherwise, it’s easy for him to lose track. One: scrape the dishes. Two: place in dishwasher and load detergent. Three: turn on dishwasher. Four: wipe counters. Robb’s phone rings shortly after he’s helped Theon finish up. It’s Jon, his brother.

Theon looks at Robb with a questioning look on his face.

“Go ahead and start watching, I’ll join you in a bit.” Theon nods and goes to the living room.

“Hi Jon, what is up?”

“Kill me, brother, please kill me.”

“Ygritte again?”

“What do you think?”

Ygritte is Jon’s wife. She is pregnant and has to be on bed rest on doctor’s orders. She is only allowed to get up to use the bathroom or to take a shower. And this forced inactivity is not doing much for her mood.

“She is driving me insane! She picks fights over idiotic things, calls me names, then gets all weepy and starts apologizing and tells me she loves me and she doesn’t know what she would do without me. And just when I am dumb enough to think things are all right, she then begs me to let her get up and do something.”

“ _Let_ her?” The idea of anybody letting Ygritte do anything is actually funny.

“Let her, that’s right, like it’s my idea. She knows it’s doctor’s orders. It’s not like I can overrule them. But if I remind her, then it’s ‘Fuck the doctor, how is it going to be good for the baby if I lose my mind?“

“She… may have a point there.”

“Gods help me Robb, I don’t know who that woman is, but she is not my wife.” Robb does not say anything. “Shit, look who I am complaining to. I am sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I mean, this is just temporary, it’s not like you and–”

“I said, don’t worry about it,” Robb said, more tersely than he planned.

“Got it.” An awkward pause. “Like I would be handling it better than her if it was me, right? I’d be the same.”

“Hells, no. You would be worse. Much worse.”

“Am I a terrible husband?”

“Yes. The worst. So, are we still on for Saturday?”

This year, Grand Feast Day falls on Saturday, and it is a big deal for the Starks. In normal circumstances, the full clan would be getting together, and Robb’s mom would cook enough for an army. It is a big celebration, full of people, noise and love. Which is exactly why last week Robb had called his mom and apologized but it might be best if he and Theon didn’t go this year. And she was disappointed, of course but also very understanding. Robb had resigned himself to a very quiet and lonely holiday at home, just him and Theon. But then Jon called, saying that since he and Ygritte were not going to go anywhere, why didn’t they all just get together at his place for a much more low-key celebration.

And after thinking about it, Robb realized it was a good idea. And they had been exchanging texts and e-mails to figure out who is going to do what.

“Are you kidding? It better be. It’s the only thing I’d had to look forward to all week.”

“Me too. Shit, now we jinxed it.”

“Come on, Robb, we are too old to believe in jinxes.”

“You are right and there is no such thing as jinxes.”

“But just in case… are you ready?”

“Ready.” Robb takes a deep breath. “IT’S GOING TO BE TERRIBLE!” he shouts.

“WORST THING EVER!” Jon shouts back.

They hang up in unison. It is a ritual they started doing as children to ward off bad luck, and they kept doing it whenever they were afraid to be hopeful. It’s stupid and childish and they both know it, but it is also comforting for Robb.

It's Friday evening. They are supposed to bring dessert and a side dish for tomorrow’s meal. Theon is making the dessert, a crème caramel, under Robb’s watchful eye. Theon had insisted in cooking it without help, which makes Robb nervous. It’s not that it’s a difficult recipe. Mix up the ingredients, melt the sugar in the pan, pour the mix in the pan, place the pan in a square pan full of water, and bake it until solid. Theon can handle all those steps. It’s just that well, Theon still has problems with his memory and staying on task. And after the incident with the pasta sauce...

A month earlier, Robb was doing a load of laundry. As the clothes were tumbling in the dryer, he’d gone on a run, confident that Theon would be OK on his own. But when Robb came back from his run, he was greeted by a horrifying scene. The smoke alarm was ringing, and the kitchen was full of smoke. Theon was sitting curled up on the floor, clutching his hand and shaking. There were red spatters of sauce everywhere. And smack in the middle, an overturned cooking pot, still giving off smoke. All of this had happened in the 30 minutes Robb had been out.

By sheer force of will, he pushed all images of what could have happened out of his mind and focused on making things better. He helped Theon stand up and had him rinse his hand in cold water while he turned off the alarm and opened the windows. “It’s OK, it’s going to be OK,” he said for Theon’s sake and his own.

The details came out later, while Robb was bandaging the burn on Theon’s hand. Still shaking, he’d confessed that he’d tried to cook, but at some point he had gotten distracted and forgotten about the pasta sauce simmering on the stove. When the alarm went off he’d raced to the kitchen and found the sauce had boiled over. In a panic, he tried to dump the pot’s contents in the sink. But he forgot to grab a potholder first and burned himself. “Sorr… sorry…”

“It’s OK, Theon, I’ll just clean this up. But I don’t want you using the stove again unless I am with you, OK?”

Theon stared at Robb, but he continued. “I just want you to be safe. I mean, all things considered, this is just a little burn, your hand is going to be fine, but you could have…” He didn't get to finish.

Theon had gotten angry. No, not angry. Enraged, to a degree Robb couldn’t remember seeing before. He’d jumped to his feet and yelled back that he was not a child, that Robb was not his father and could not tell him what to do, and to go fuck himself. Then he stomped off to the bedroom and slammed the door hard enough to make Robb cringe. Less than an hour later, he had come out and found Robb in the kitchen, scrubbing the last of the spatters and scowling.

“Robb?”

“Yes?”

“You… look… mad. What’s… what’s b- what’s wrong?” He didn’t remember.

The timer goes off, bringing Robb back to the present. He pushes aside that memory. It was months ago. It’s time to take out the dessert. Robb goes to the drawer to get the oven mitts, when Theon’s hand goes to his shoulder. “Let me.”

Robb is almost prepared to argue, but Theon is right. He certainly can do it and Robb does not do him any favors by doing things for him that he is capable of doing. So Robb smiles, hands over the mitts, and just tells him to be careful. He watches like a hawk as Theon grabs the pan full of water and places it on the stovetop. It’s not until Robb reminds him to turn off the oven that he realizes he’d been holding his breath.

On Saturday morning, Theon sleeps in while Robb finishes making his famous cheesy potatoes that he promised he would bring. When he is done, he wakes up Theon. They don’t have to be at Jon and Ygritte’s place for a few hours yet, but Theon can be slow getting himself ready. He always has been, but now it’s for different reasons.

Theon picks out a pair of jeans, but choosing a shirt seems to stump him. Colors, short-sleeve versus long-sleeve. Robb helps him by narrowing down the choices to three. Theon can handle it from there.

They are finally on the way to Jon’s, with Robb driving, and Theon holding the box with the food they are bringing securely in his lap.

“Are you nervous? You don’t need to be nervous. It’s only Jon and Ygritte.”

“You are nerves. Nervous.” Theon is right. Robb _is_ nervous. He wants everything to be OK.

Jon welcomes them at the door. He greets his brother with a big hug, and his brother-in-law with a nod. Theon manages a smile.

“COME ON DOWN,” Ygritte hollers from the living room. Jon rolls his eyes. For Theon’s sake, Robb hopes that she does not spend all her time hollering.

His sister-in-law is lying on her side on the couch. Her belly is front and center and demanding attention. Considering all the stories Jon has told them about how moody she’s been, she appears in great spirits. “Hey Robb, hey Theon, how you doing?”

“Hi Ygritte, you look good” Robb says.

“I better, I put on my good sweats for you guys.”

“You are so big,” Theon blurts out. He is not being insensitive. He has not seen Ygritte in ages and his ability to keep his thoughts to himself, his filter, is just… off.

Ygritte just laughs it off. Both brothers let out a big sigh of relief.

Instead of eating at the dining table, they set out the meal at the living room coffee table. It feels like something out of their college days except nobody is drinking. Ygritte is on the couch, propped up on pillows. The rest of them sit on the floor and eat off plates balanced on their laps.

The afternoon seems to be a success. Jon and Ygritte do their best to make Theon feel included without putting too much pressure on him or making it obvious. They ask him a question here and there about whatever they are talking about. Theon answers in his new voice, halting and hesitant, as if he was speaking a foreign language he just learned. Watching him struggle to find the word for what he wants to say is difficult for Robb. But with only three other people talking, Theon seems to follow what is being said easily enough.

And since there is an audience, Ygritte decides to provide the entertainment. She talks in detail about all the changes happening to her body. To Jon’s embarrassment and Robb’s amusement, she is happy to step over the line into Too Much Information territory. At one point she pulls up her shirt to show off her belly changing shape when the baby kicks.

“When are you due?” Robb asks.

“Officially? Eight weeks from Monday.” Jon beams

“Honey, he was asking me. _We_ are not pregnant, remember?”

“That’s right, you are. I am just the one who enabled you.”

Robb groans. “Don’t make me picture the two of you–”

“What, having sex?” Ygritte’s filter works fine. She just loves to shock people. “I mean, it’s great preparation for childbirth! All that gasping and heavy breathing. Hoo hoo, hee hee, hoo hoo, hee hee.”

“Stop it. She’s evil, did you know that? She had me watch some awful documentary on childbirth around the world.”

“It’s not awful, it’s very honest,” Ygritte says from the couch.

“‘Honest, my ass. It means they show _eve-ry-thing_. There’s no blurring, no discreet angles, nothing. You see everything from the business end.”

“Ew,” Theon says quietly and without prompting.

The crème caramel is a success and Robb goes out of his way to point out that Theon made it. Jon and Ygritte tell him it was delicious. They finish eating. Ygritte goes back to a horizontal position on the couch and offers to direct cleaning efforts. Jon gets off the floor and starts picking up dirty dishes. Robb doesn’t even offer to help, he just follows Jon’s lead. Theon goes to stand up, but Robb tells him to stay in and keep Ygritte company.

“Why don’t you guys stay?” Jon asks. “ We were planning on watching a movie.”

“Funny, aren’t you supposed to find a polite way to throw us out?”

“Heh. Seriously, I need to talk to somebody I am not married to or work with.”

“I’ll do my best, but I am not very interesting.”

“I know,” Jon deadpans. Robb throws a dishtowel at him.

From the time that Theon was admitted to the hospital to the time he was discharged and sent home, Robb’s family has been there for him, one way or the other. And if it had been a competition, not that it was, of course, Jon would have earned himself the MVP trophy. When Robb was raging about the unfairness of it all, or when he was ranting about the doctors treating Theon as just another stop in their rounds at the ward, or the time he broke down from the sleep deprivation and worry, Jon was there. He generally refrains from giving advice unless asked. And he does not pass judgement. And Robb intends to return the favor when Baby Stark is born.

Jon is for Robb that person with whom you don't have to pretend you are handling things well. And the only one, until Theon showed up on Robb’s life and ended up becoming another one of those persons. He never appreciated how good he had it, having not just one but two people like that. But with the baby coming, Jon will probably not be able to just be there like before. And Theon… Theon just can't right now, period. He needs Robb to be there for him. So now Robb has to be _on_ all the time. He has to cope well with things, remain calm when Theon has outbursts over small things, and be the one who handles every crisis that comes their way. He can’t admit to Theon that he sometimes gets scared for him, for himself, for both. Or how angry he gets every so often, or how much he misses their old life.

Robb focuses on scrubbing the dishes clean while Jon rinses and sets them out to dry. When they return to the living room, they find Ygritte dozing on the couch. Theon is sitting at the end, painting her toenails.

Painting her toenails?!

“Honey?” Jon whispers, shaking Ygritte’s shoulder gently. Her eyes open slightly. “You want to go to bed? Better for your back?”

She whines a bit, then yawns.

Robb can't help himself. “Uh, Ygritte, why is Theon painting your toes?”

“Because he had nothing to do. And I can't see my feet. I asked him if he would mind, and he agreed. And before you say anything, Robb, I told him that he didn’t have to. Isn’t that right?”

Theon looks up, but doesn’t react to the fact that they are talking about him. He moves on to the next foot. He has smeared some of the red polish into her skin here and there, but his painting job is not too bad.

Jon groans. “Please don’t tell me you made him dig through your drawers to find your… nail stuff.”

“Ha! Joke’s on you. The nail stuff has been in that side table for days now. I make every trip to the bathroom count, you know. I was going to ask you to do it for me, but…” She shrugs.

Robb laughs at the absurdity. Jon just shakes his head.

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yes.”

“They really liked your dessert.”

“Good.”

The rest of the car drive goes in silence. Every so often, as he drives, Robb sneaks glances at Theon, who is staring straight ahead. The visit to Jon and Ygritte has taken a toll on Theon. Fatigue or stress can make speaking clearly much harder for him, and in extreme cases impossible. So Robb tries to be on the lookout for signs of exhaustion. It’s not just his speech that gets worse; being tired also makes him irritable and if pushed hard enough, aggressive.

They get home. It’s still early but Theon goes to bed immediately, without even saying good night. Robb putters around for a few hours until he finds himself yawning.

Right after he gets in bed, he wonders if Theon took his evening meds. He gets up with a groan and checks Theon’s pill holder with the A.M. and P.M. compartments for each day of the week. A quick look confirms Theon did take them. Robb breathes a sigh of relief. If he’d had to wake Theon up… He shakes his head, as if to rid his mind of negative thoughts, and gets back to bed. The line between caring for Theon while respecting his dignity and treating him like a child in an adult’s body is fine indeed.


	4. Maybe?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback from Theon's POV; more Robb's POV

At one point Robb asked Theon if he remembered being in the hospital. And Theon said no.

What he would have said, if he could have come up with the right words, was that it’s not like he has a blank space where his memory of those weeks should be. What he has instead are hazy and fragmented pictures. Some are actual memories, many are things he must have learned afterwards that he used to fill in the missing spaces. Who knows, maybe there are a few he just made up.

Like the time a doctor asks him to touch his nose with his index finger but his hand goes to his cheek instead.

Or an earlier time when he opens his eyes and sees a red-headed man sitting next to him and he doesn't know who it is until that red-haired stranger reaches out and touches his hand. He whispers Theon’s name in a voice just like Robb’s and he gives off Robb’s familiar smell. But when Theon tries to say Robb’s name back, all that comes out is a gurgle. He panics for a second, but tries again. “Aw….” No, that’s not right. “Raw-oh…” It’s only one syllable, he should be able to say it. Why can’t he? What’s wrong with him? Will he be all right again? He’s angry with himself, he’s scared, he’s… Tears come to his eyes. He tries to sit up, but his arm, no, both of them, they are secured to the bed.

“Those things… Theon, it’s OK, you were thrashing quite a bit, they were afraid you would fall off the bed. I’ll talk to the nurse, see if they can get them off. It’s OK.”

No, it’s not. This isn’t right. He tries to move his head but there’s something on his neck, a plastic thing that won't let him. He’s seen those things. Without thinking, he reaches out to take it off, but his wrist remains secured to the bed. He tries again and again.

“Please. Please. Stop, you are going to hurt yourself. I pressed the button. The nurse will get here and…”

Theon starts crying. He can’t help it and he hates himself for it.

Robb squeezes his eyes shut, but he doesn’t cry. He doesn’t say anything. He just holds Theon’s hand and wipes the tears off his face. Theon drifts off again.

But Theon knows it may not have happened like that, if at all. When it comes to his own story he is an unreliable narrator.

* * *

 

Robb is stirring in bed. He is having that dream again, the one where he goes to the hospital and they tell him Theon’s room number and he can't find it. And he hears Theon call for him and he keeps looking for the room to no avail. Deep down he knows is just a dream, but it still makes him wake up with a racing heartbeat.

It's Sunday morning. He splashes water on his face, pulls on his running clothes. Years ago, he had to stop running for a few weeks due to a knee injury. And even after a full recovery, he'd never really gotten back into running each day for longer than a week or two.

But one day, after Theon’s condition was no longer critical, Robb found himself lacing up his shoes and doing a few laps around the block, just to vent some steam. When he got home, his mind felt, well, not exactly clear of worries, but capable of handling them. Maybe it had been the endorphins, but he did it again the next day, and the next. It became a ritual he performed after visiting Theon. Back when he played sports in school, he’d hated it when coaches made him and his teammates run laps. If his coach could see him now...

In fact, he needs his daily run now more than before. It helps him deal with the stress of being Theon’s caregiver and his job. On good days, he focuses on things like distance and pacing. On bad days, he just runs until he feels all worry or anger has drained out of him, and only then he returns home. If running is not an option for whatever reason, he settles for locking himself in the bathroom with a sofa cushion. Then he screams into the cushion until his throat is raw.

It's not until he is lacing up his sneakers that he realizes that Theon is not in bed. _I must not be fully awake yet_. “Theon?” Robb calls out, trying to keep the worry out of his voice.

He finds Theon standing in the kitchen, humming. The counter is cluttered with bowls big and small, measuring cups and spoons, the works. About a cup’s worth of flour must have been spilled on the floor.

Robb attempts a carefree smile. “What are you up to?”

“Wait for you... make breakfast.”

“You were waiting for me to make breakfast?” That's odd; Theon’s breakfast is usually a piece of toast or cereal and juice. He can manage that on his own.

Theon shakes his head. “Make breakfast you.” He bites his lip in frustration. “To you. For you. I wait you.” He holds his hand over the burner. “Off. Wait you. _For_ you.” He looks so eager.

“You were waiting for me so you could make me breakfast?” Of course. How can he go on a run now?

“I wanted nice for you. Do something nice.” Robb guesses Theon is planning on pancakes. Each one of the main ingredients –flour, eggs, sugar, butter‒ is in a different bowl. He watches as Theon concentrates on counting out loud the number of teaspoons of baking powder he adds to the flour. Then salt.

It all seems a little labor-intensive to Robb. After all, they have pancake mix in the cupboard. Hells, it might be faster to go out and buy pancake mix.

“Theon, you know you don’t have to–”

Theon makes a “talk to the hand” gesture. Robb does not get offended. It is easy for Theon to get distracted. So he just observes silently as Theon mixes everything and starts heating the pan.

The pancakes turn out just fine and nothing catches fire. Robb tells Theon he has done a great job. Theon beams. He cleans up, with Robb’s help. Neither of them say anything. That’s fine with Robb.

His run can wait. The trail will still be there in the afternoon.


	5. It's a Baby!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ygritte has the baby; Robb gets sad and irritated.

Theon keeps going to his outpatient program. He works on improving his speech, his balance, and his cognitive skills. Since he is not able to take the bus by himself yet, Robb had to request a changed schedule. His bosses now let him arrive later and leave earlier so that he can drive Theon to and from the program. It's all on a trial basis, of course. So that they don't change their mind, he compensates by taking a shorter lunch break, bringing work home and more importantly, making each hour at the office count. He knows that it will cost him down the line, that there will be those who think he doesn’t take his job seriously, that he is not carrying his share of the weight. He wishes he could say he doesn’t care.

Partly out of brotherly love, partly to forget his own troubles, Robb checks on Jon and Ygritte frequently. Ygritte remains on bed rest and is getting cabin fever. Jon is nervous about everything. One night, he confesses to Robb that he is afraid he’ll crack. What if he faints in the delivery room? What if he turns out to be a terrible father and scars the kid for life? What if the baby inherits all their worst traits, like Ygritte’s temper and his tendency to brood?

Robb just listens and refrains from offering unsolicited advice. He does feel compelled to make one exception. “You have seen blood and guts before without problems. Just, you know, bring some snacks or something.”

“Snacks!?”

“Yes. Because I know you, _you_ are the kind of person who forgets to eat. And if you do pass out because your blood sugar is too low or something, she is never going to let you forget about it.”

Jon laughs.

* * *

 

Theon is already in bed when Robb crawls under the covers. He’s been asleep for hours. His therapy sessions often leave him exhausted. He barely stirs when Robb wraps an arm around his waist. To Robb, Theon feels solid, nowhere near as fragile as he once did.

Back at the hospital, Robb had at first been afraid to do anything beyond holding Theon’s hand for fear of jostling a tube or disrupting a machine. And as Theon became thinner and thinner, going from lean to downright gaunt. Robb only dared to hug him gingerly, as if afraid Theon would break. But not anymore.

Theon snuggles closer, and Robb almost cries for joy. He no longer takes for granted Theon’s presence in his bed, in his arms. This simple pleasure is more than what Robb had dared to hope for in those horrible early days. I love He is afraid to ask for more. Too bad it doesn’t stop him from desiring more, he muses, his hand slipping between his legs. Or from feeling guilty about it.

It seems like Robb has just fallen asleep when his phone goes off. It’s Jon. Even though he is only half-conscious, Robb starts feeling alarmed. Jon would not call at this hour unless he had a very good reason.

“Jon?” he mumbles.

“It broke!” Jon yells.

“I am sorry, what broke?”

“Ygritte’s water. Her water!”

For a second, he has no idea what the hell Jon is talking about. Then it dawns on him. _Shit_.

“But isn't it early? I thought she wasn't due until…”

“Two weeks from Wednesday? So did we! That means shit! The baby doesn’t care!” Jon snaps.

Robb is momentarily taken back; Jon has not spoken to him like this since, well, ever. But he is not going to hold it against his brother. He knows Jon is scared. So he takes a deep breath.

“I should’ve had her bag ready by the door, Robb. The house is a disaster. I don't even have the crib assembled. We are not ready!” Jon is almost hyperventilating.

“Slow down. Are you guys at the hospital now?”

“Not yet. I just got her in the car, told her I forgot my wallet and ran back in.”

“You left her in the car?”

“I have like two minutes left before she worries. I had to talk to somebody. I can't do this.” This isn't new-daddy jitters. Robb is going to have to talk him down.

“Jon. Listen carefully. I don't know anything about labor or childbirth, but I know this. Ygritte is going to need you to be on top of things.”

“I know, I know, but– “

“But nothing. Breathe deep, jump up and down, do what you need to do. When you go back to that car, you are going to act like you are ready for this. I know you don't think you can do it, but you can handle this.”

“And if I can't?”

“Uh, then you... fake it?”

Jon makes a sound that could be a sob or a laugh. _Time for Plan B._

“Jon? Forget everything I’ve said. Just get back in that car, and drive her to the hospital. That’s your only job right now. Don’t think about the baby, don’t think about anything. Once you get that done, the rest will fall into place. You’ll see.”

Jon’s voice has returned to normal. “Thanks, Robb. I think I’ll be OK for now.”

“Great.” Robb yawns. “Keep me posted, OK? And don't forget to eat!”

This time, Jon does laugh.

* * *

 

_Checked in. Settled in. Ygritte hooked up to a fetal monitor, can't move much. Not happy about it. Have to turn phone off, but will call if news._

Robb stuffs his own phone in his pocket after reading Jon’s text. “Theon, there's something I want to tell you.”

Theon looks at Robb from the passenger seat with only the mildest look of curiosity. Robb is on his way to drop him off at the rehabilitation program he attends 5 days a week.

“Ygritte is in the hospital. Jon had to take her last night.”

“Why?”

“Her water… She might be having the baby earlier than she is supposed to. Perhaps today.”

“OK,” Theon says in a matter-of-fact way. He probably doesn't grasp that it is sort of a big deal. For crying out loud, Jon and Ygritte are going to become parents.

“Anyway, depending on how things go for Ygritte, we might do things differently in the afternoon.”

At this, Theon crinkles his brow. _Now he reacts, because it might actually affect him._ Robb feels guilty for thinking that way.

“Nothing major,” Robb hastens to add. “I’ll pick you up this afternoon like I normally do, but I might drop you off at your sister’s. Or we might go to the hospital and see Jon and Ygritte, if she is OK with that. How does that sound?”

Theon just shrugs. Robb just shakes his head. This whole “not saying much” thing can be annoying. It’s early in the day as well; there's no way Theon should be fatigued to the point of not talking.

After dropping off Theon, Robb gets to his office. He sends a quick text to Jon. _Do U need us at the hospital for moral support?_

Several hours pass and Robb immerses himself in paperwork. Sometime in the afternoon, his phone goes off. It’s Jon.

“Jon? How is it going?”

“Uh… well, I have to make this quick. Doctor says he thinks she should go for a C-section.”

“Something wrong?”

“Labor is not going as fast as they want.”

“How fast does it have to be? Nevermind, stupid question.”

“Short explanation is that “better safe than sorry.” Anyway, he did say if things got to the point of an emergency C-section, it’s just her in the O.R. and she might be knocked out. But if we go ahead and agree to this, they can give her a spinal block and I can be there.”

“And?

“That was all I needed to hear. I said yes. I said that if it was up to me, to go ahead with the C-section, but that the final decision should be hers. She started crying but said yes too. I am selfish, Robb. I want to be there. That’s my kid. And if Ygritte’s conscious, she’ll need me.”

“So, now what?”

“Well, they are getting her ready. And I am supposed to scrub in and wait until the all clear. You should see me, I look like a mad scientist,” Jon said, laughing.

“I bet. Hey, listen, Theon and I can go over to the hospital after I am done with work if you want.”

“Well, I’d love to see you guys, but I don’t know if Ygritte will, you know, feel like being seen after everything is through. Tell you what, I’ll call you when it’s over.”

“OK, talk to you later, when you are a daddy!”

“Oh gods…” Jon gulped.

 _Why did I have to say the D word?_ “Jon, Jon, it’s OK, deep breath, relax. You are on top of this. Your only job right now is to avoid passing out. Got it?”

“Got it. Later.”

Later in the afternoon, Robb picks up Theon from his rehab session. “So, how did today go?” he asks.

“Good. They… asked goals. My goals.”

“That’s great! And what are those?”

“Better talk. Talk… better. Bike… ride bike. Ride bike again. Work. Back. Go back work.” Theon closes his eyes. This is probably the most he has said in one sitting.

Robb doesn’t say anything. Certainly and with enough work, Theon could improve his speech and his balance, perhaps even go back to riding a bicycle that is not stationary. But going back to work? Juggling multiple cases, driving all over the place, dealing with families going through the roughest of patches… One of them counselors needs to talk to him about realistic goals. He is just going to set himself up for failure.

Still, Robb can’t resist asking, “What kind of work?”

“Not know. Do not… know.” Theon leans back against the headrest, turns his head away.

Point taken.

They eat dinner, barely exchanging words. Theon looks rather troubled.

“Theon, is something bothering you?”

Theon looks up at that.

“If there is nothing, great. If there is, and you want to talk about it, it’s OK. And if you don’t, that’s also OK. I just want to know.”

Theon just stares.

“It’s just… I can’t read your mind, and if there is something I can do–”

“I don’t.” He looks up. “I know something. Something my mind.” The frustration is evident in his face, but he won’t give up. “Can’t say it. Don’t… have words for things, the things mind.” He punches the table. “Things IN my mind. No words. I want say, no words come. Not right words.”

He starts crying. Robb feels like shit. He goes over to Theon’s side of the table and tries to put his arm around Theon.

But Theon swats it away and glares at him. “NO!” he growls. Robb puts his hands up and backs away slowly. Touching is a bad idea at moments like this. He should know better by now.

Theon continues to glare for only a few more seconds before his face crumples again. He hides his head in his arms and cries louder.

“It’s OK, Theon. I am not going to touch you unless you are OK with it. OK?” A nod. “I am going to give you some space, so you can calm down? Sounds good? I’ll be in the kitchen.” Another nod. This time, Theon’s hand reaches out for Robb’s and squeezes. Robb squeezes back. Robb goes to the kitchen. He doesn’t start cleaning up right away. First, he has a drink of water, takes a few deep breaths. Once his hands have stopped shaking, he loads the dishwasher. Every so often, he checks to see how Theon is doing. He seems to have calmed down, but his head is still down.

Robb goes back to cleaning up. He focuses all his energy on the counters. Finally, when there is nothing else that he can justify scouring, he goes back. He finds Theon curled up on the couch, his arms around his legs, chin on his knees.

“Can I sit with you?” Theon does not respond or even turn toward Robb. Robb can only see his profile. “I will leave you alone if that is what you want.” This time Theon shakes his head. Robb sits down, leaving plenty of space between them.

“I know...” he begins with hesitation. “I don’t know what’s bothering you specifically, but I can only imagine how hard it is to have feelings and thoughts and ideas that you can’t–” he swallows, “that you can’t express like you’d want to.”

Theon still doesn’t look at Robb, but he nods. He looks like he is about to cry again. “Sorry. Sorry about.” He makes an exploding gesture with his hands. “Hard you. Hard FOR you.”

Robb smiles a sad little smile. It makes him feel better to know that Theon recognizes how his outbursts can affect others. It also makes him feel a bit hopeful that things can get easier between them.

“You’ve come so far. And I think… I think things will get better for you. As far as talking and everything else.”

“Is not fast. Not too fast.” Theon shakes his head. “Not... fast… enough.” He looks surprised, as if he can’t believe what he was able to say.

Robb is shocked, a little happy, but a little cautious too. “I am proud of you.”

Theon scoots closer and leans into him. He forms an L with his index and thumb, as in “Loser”, but he also holds up his little finger.

“I love you too.”

Of course, that’s when the phone goes off. Jon. Robb has almost forgotten about him.

He smiles as soon as he opens the message.

_It’s a GIRL!!!!!! Munda Lya Stark. 6 pounds, 14 oz, 19 ½ inches. Born at 3:47 p.m. Awesome Apgar score for a C-baby. Sorry I didn’t call earlier, but I dozed off. :)_

Jon’s also texted a picture of the three of them. He was right. In his scrubs and mask, he does look like a mad scientist. Ygritte looks exhausted and radiant at the same time. And in the middle, there she is. Eyes open, a bit of hair peeking out of a tiny hat, wrapped up in a bundle. His brand new niece, Munda...

Out of all possible names, they picked _MUNDA!?_ He tries to hold in a guffaw. What are they thinking? Oh, whatever, nobody asked his opinion. She is healthy, and she has finally arrived. He calls back.

“Jon? How’s everything?”

“Robb! Everything is perfect! She is awesome!” Robb has never heard Jon sound so jubilant.

“Thanks for sending the picture. How’s Ygritte?”

“Resting. She just got done feeding the baby.”

“So it went well? You didn’t pass out?”

“Very funny. Nah, they had a screen, and I just focused on Ygritte while the doctors were doing their thing. You know I actually cut the cord?”

“Really?”

“That’s right! As soon as they moved Ygritte to her room, I sat down, and I say to myself, Oh, I’ll just rest my eyes for a bit. And boom. I wake up three hours later.”

“I can’t wait to meet my niece. Whoa, you are a dad!”

“I know! Maybe it hasn’t dawned on me yet, because I am not panicking. I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye!”

Robb likes this version of Jon. Excited, confident, and definitely NOT freaking out. He hopes for his niece’s sake that Jon stays this way.

“Theon, did you hear? Ygritte had a girl!”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, her name is Munda,” he says, biting the inside of his cheek. He is not going to laugh at the name anymore, whatever it takes.

“Moon-day,” Theon says tentatively. He purses his lips and gives it another try. “MOON-da?”

“You got it. I think.”

Theon makes a face. Then he starts laughing, a little too loudly for Robb’s taste.

“When we visit them, don't laugh at the name, please.”

Theon stops laughing, frowns. “I know to act,” he says through gritted teeth. “Not stupid!”

Robb is not in the mood for Round 2. “I never said you were. But sometimes you say things without thinking. Hurtful things.”

Theon just glares.

“You need to work on that. You can hurt your friends. Me.”

Theon is no longer glaring. But Robb can't read his face.

“I know I say things wrong. I work it. _At_ it. At saying right. But,” he taps his temple “I have reason. I hurt my head. Why you?”

“Why I what?”

“Say things too. Wrong things. Hurt feelings? Mine. My feelings.”

 _What the hell is Theon talking about?_ But Robb doesn’t get a chance to ask because Theon gets up and heads to the bedroom.

Fuck.

That is a dick move, saying bullshit like that (because it is) and then walking off. It's amazing that for all of his “deficits” Theon still can pull dick moves.

There's only one thing left for Robb to do. He grabs the sofa cushion and stomps to the bathroom. He can't let himself lose his temper. So it's either scream into the cushion and punch it into submission, or else taking his anger out on someone who can't handle it. Even if that someone is the one to cause it.

* * *

 

The next day, Robb is in a foul mood.

The argument (if you could call it that, because an argument requires two people) he had with Theon has been weighing on his mind. It is not going to get resolved any time soon. Theon simply is not ready to talk about what bothers him at this point. Right?

Or is he?

Great. Now Robb finds himself doubting Theon’s speech limitations. They are very real. They don’t just show up when it’s convenient for Theon; it just so happens that this time they allowed him to get away with shit he should not get away with. But out of the things Theon says and does, which ones are really within his control? Which ones can he be held accountable for, and which ones should Robb let slide? Assuming he can, of course.

As if he needed more aggravation, his workday is full of annoyances big and small. Some idiot burns popcorn on the microwave and stinks up the whole office. Another one takes the last cup of coffee and not only does not brew another pot, but leaves the machine on so that the last few drops meld to the carafe. And that guy from HR remains unable to tell the difference between “Reply:” and “Reply All:” when he sends e-mails. It is all Robb can do to avoid snarling at innocent bystanders.

So, when Jon finally calls, Robb thinks it’s best if he lets it go to voicemail. He just cannot handle anybody’s happiness right now.

“Hey Robb, it’s me. Sorry I missed you–”

Oh hell. Robb picks up the call. “Hi Jon, how are the _girls_?” he asks, putting special emphasis on the final ‘S’ in girls.

“They are doing great. They are both sleeping right now. Your sister is here.”

“Sansa?”

“Yeah. She is going to keep Ygritte company for a few hours while I go home and assemble that crib. It’s either that or put the baby to sleep in a milk crate or a drawer.”

“Well, you better hurry up then.”

“Right. So, when are you guys coming?”

“Well, it depends. I want to meet my niece but I think it might be better if Theon meets her later on.”

“Oh?”

Robb looks around as if to check for eavesdroppers. “I am not sure he can handle going to the hospital. Too much going on for him.”

Maybe Jon gets it, maybe he doesn’t but he doesn’t question Robb. “OK. Well, if all goes well, Ygritte and Munda get discharged the day after tomorrow, so you have until then.”

“I have to ask. Munda. How did you guys pick that name?”

“Ygritte. All Ygritte. She says that since she carried the baby, she should have the right to pick the name. At least she gave me veto rights.”

“Which you didn't use.”

“The name is growing on me. It’s unique and it has a certain charm.”

Robb hopes it grows on him too. If anybody is going to make Munda feel bad for her name, it should not be her uncle.

“Tell you what, I’ll call Asha. If she can help me out, I should be able to make it.”

* * *

 

“Do you want to hold her?”

Robb nods. Little Munda doesn't seem to mind going from her father’s arms to her uncle’s.

“Hi, little moon, nice to meet you,” he says with an effort because there is a lump in his throat. As he stares into her bluish eyes, the rest of the world fades away. He doesn’t know how much she can see right now, but she gazes at him, like she can see to the bottom of his soul. And he is just overcome with… what is it, joy with a tinge of grief?

He can't explain it. He’s held babies before, of course, his little brothers, but he doesn’t remember connecting with them like that. Maybe he is having an epiphany. Or a hallucination.

“Can I have her back?” Jon says from far away.

Robb hesitates before handing her over. Jon takes her and goes over to Ygritte. Poor Ygritte can’t sit up properly, but somehow she makes room for both Jon and her daughter. She starts humming a little lullaby. Jon kisses both of them.

It’s too much for Robb. He excuses himself and heads to the men’s room to pull himself together.

When he comes back, he wishes them well and leaves them to enjoy their own little world **.**


	6. Status quo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asha shows up. Things are said.

There’s a lot on Robb’s mind tonight as he drives home.

He still can’t believe Asha agreed to come over and stay with Theon so he could visit his new niece. And at the last minute too. She never ceases to surprise him. The same woman who used to refer to Theon as “my idiot brother” also donated blood while he was in the ICU and sat with him for hours after he’d come out of his coma but was still confused and unable to speak at all.

Not only that, but Robb is also still trying to process what happened at the hospital. Why did he get so emotional watching Jon with his daughter?

The answer leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.  _ Because it's never going to be you. _

Why does that bother him? Yes, he liked the idea of having kids, but both he and Theon love –sorry,  _ loved _ – their freedom. And he is merely ambivalent; Theon was always more reluctant than him.

The conversations he had with Theon a very long time ago come to Robb’s mind. Each time Robb had asked Theon what his thoughts were on the subject of family. And Theon had made a few lame jokes about passing along his genetic material, nature vs. nurture, etc. But one day, he admitted that he just didn't think of himself as parent material.

“I am damaged goods, Robb. My own dad made sure of that,” he’d said, unable to look at Robb in the eye. “And for all I know, his dad did the same to him. I don’t want to pass that on to some kid, you know?” He was all choked up. Robb squeezed his hand without saying a word at first.

“Don't worry, I don't want kids right now.”

“‘Not right now’ does not mean ‘not ever.’ Sooner or later you'll want a family as big as yours. And I don't know that I’ll change my mind ever or that I can handle that responsibility. Tell me the truth, is it a deal breaker?”

Robb had thought about it, smiled and said no, of course not. “Besides, you are not your father. I don't think you give yourself enough credit.”

Theon’s smirk had returned. “Maybe we can work up to it. Let's try getting a plant first, let that be our practice child.”

“A  _ practice  _ child.”

“Yes. If we can handle that, then a dog or a cat...”

“Oh, a dog, definitely.”

“Or both!”

“Nope.” Robb shook his head. "You know that I am on Team Dog, Greyjoy.”

“What do you have against cats, Stark? Never mind, how about we compromise and get a guinea pig? Good practice for parenting.”

“I don’t know how a guinea pig is a compromise, but I am listening.”

“Exactly. We test the waters of parenthood. And worse comes to worse, if it turns out we suck at it and can’t take care of a guinea pig, well, I’ve heard they taste like rabbit.”

Robb snorted and gave Theon a playful smack with his pillow. “I am not listening anymore. You would cook and  _ eat _ our practice child? Yep, you are not ready for parenthood.”

And Theon had punched him in the arm and laughed… Robb misses that sound. He misses Old Theon. His jokes, his refusal to take things too seriously, the kind heart under a tough exterior. He would have made a good father, no matter what he said.

It's a moot point anyway as far as Robb is concerned. He can’t be a father to a child and a caregiver for Theon at the same time. But seeing up close what he is missing now that the option to become a father has been taken completely out of his hands hurts.

When he arrives, both Asha and Theon are sitting on the couch.

“Hi, how were things?”

“She orr… orr...ordered pizza.”

“Sounds good. What kind?”

“Pepper. No, not pepper, it was meat… pepperon– Pepperoni!” Theon announces triumphantly.

“Thanks, Asha, how much do I owe you?”

“My treat. I’ll see you later, little brother.” Theon waves at his sister’s departing back.

Asha gives Robb a pointed look. “Would you mind walking me to my car?” Translation: she wants to talk to him privately. That can’t be good.

Once they are outside, she gets to the point. “How are things? Things between you and my brother, I mean.”

Robb could simply say that it is a personal question. Instead, he squirms under her unblinking gaze. “I don’t know what you mean. Why do you ask?”

“Because after you dropped him off, he got really emotional and weepy. He started saying you hate him and that you think he is stupid, that he makes you sad, that you’d be better off without him. I asked him why he was saying that. And he couldn’t really answer and just got more upset.”

Robb feels sick all of a sudden.

“The good news is that whatever this was, it didn’t last long. At some point he went off by himself to calm down, I didn’t even have to tell him to do that. Well, I order the pizza, and when it arrives, it’s like it’s his birthday or something, he’s so cheerful.”

“Yeah, that happens a lot, the whole up and down with his mood.”

“In any case, is there a reason WHY he would say those things about you? And don’t lie to me.”

“You know he often says things without thinking, right? I did tell him once that he needs to be careful with the things he says so he doesn’t hurt other people. But I have never called him stupid, or said... the other things.”

Asha doesn’t say anything. She just looks at him. It’s unnerving.

“I am his sister. No matter what he does, he’ll always be my little brother. Are you in this for the long haul?”

Robb’s had enough. Who does she think she is? “If you are implying that I am going to leave Theon just because of his injury, you are wrong.”

“I am not implying anything, I am asking. Because taking care of someone like him is difficult. And you’ve done it since he got hurt.”

“Well, I am not planning to stop. Are you done interrogating me?”

“I just want to make sure you have what it takes. If you don’t, you don’t. Simple. It doesn’t make you a bad person. It is what it is.”

Robb doesn’t know what to say to this.

“You don’t have to know the answer right now. Just think about it.”

She doesn’t wait for his response. She just gets in her car and drives away, leaving Robb behind.


	7. Growing Pains

Ygritte and Jon bring home their baby. Little Moon (the nickname stuck) is absolutely adorable. Ygritte recovers from her surgery without problems. And Jon is one proud papa around the two of them.

Robb does his best to stay in touch without being obnoxious. He talks to Jon at least once a week.

And yet one day, their usually light-hearted conversation is anything but. There is a hard edge to Jon’s voice that Robb has never heard before.

“Jon, are you doing OK? You sound… off.”

“Excuse me for not being Mary fucking Sunshine,” Jon snaps. “Sorry, I am just exhausted. I keep having to take Moon out for drives so she’ll fall asleep. It’s worse than when I had that job with rotating shifts.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Seriously, Robb,” Jon says, “the other day, I dozed off while driving.”

“WHAT?!”

“Don’t worry, nothing happened. It was at a red light. And I woke up when the light changed and the cars behind me started honking.”

“If I were you I would not tell Ygritte,” Robb says with a nervous laugh. Shit. He himself has had plenty of sleepless nights but at least he’s never fallen asleep at the wheel. At his desk, yes. Fortunately he doesn't snore.

“Are you kidding? She has enough going on, trying to put Moon on a schedule, her job and all.”

“What’s the matter with her job?”

“Between the time in bed rest and the recovery, she exceeded her leave. They don’t want to let her come back unless it is as a new hire.”

“Shit, Jon, that’s, that’s fucked up.”

“No fucking kidding. It’s either taking that or job hunting.”

Robb wishes he could help them with something other than shared outrage or emotional support.

* * *

 

Theon continues making progress at his outpatient program. He still has physical therapy to continue improving his balance and stamina, but he is also taking classes with a focus on becoming more independent. They teach him things like navigating the city’s public transportation system, strategies for dealing with his poor memory and concentration. And of course, speech therapy.

One day, Asha calls to invite Theon to spend the weekend at her place. Theon seems OK with the idea, and Robb agrees.

It’s their first weekend apart since Theon came home. Robb feels a little morose his first morning, when he opens his eyes and Theon is not there. It reminds him way too much of how it felt when Theon was in the hospital. The bed had been too empty without him. And when it was time to wash the sheets, he refused to throw Theon’s pillow case in the washer because it smelled of him.

His funk doesn’t last, though. He goes out for a run. Later he gets caught up with work and chores at home.

He even stops by Jon and Ygritte’s with takeout dinner. The three of them eat and make small talk. Ygritte and Jon seem to be on their best behavior, but their demeanor comes across as a little forced. Ygritte mentions that she has found somebody to watch Munda when she returns to work. The fact that she will go back as a new-hire with no seniority does not come up, to everyone’s relief.

On Sunday, he sleeps in much later than he’d planned, putters around the place and goes to Asha’s to pick up Theon. Both Greyjoys look like they are in a good mood.

“Hi, Theon, you ready?”’

“I’m ready… to go. Get. My things. Be. Be right back” Then he goes off to get his bag, leaving Robb alone with Asha.

“Asha, I can’t thank you enough–”

“Ah, forget it. It was no trouble. You know,” she whispers, “I had not heard him talk for a while. He sounds so much better. Why didn’t you tell me?” She punches Robb in the arm. It’s supposed to be a playful gesture, but Robb knows he’ll have a bruise.

“Well, I see him every day. I noticed, but it didn’t really… register, you know.” He clears his throat. “Did everything go OK?”

“For the most part.”

“Most?” His forehead wrinkles.

“No biggie. I’ll tell you later.”

“Asha Greyjoy.” Robb crosses his arms over his chest. He is not in the mood for games.

“Ugh, fine,” she huffs. “Yesterday, we were watching something on TV and it really upset him.”

“What was it?”

“ _ Finding Nemo _ .”

Robb is puzzled. Not that they were watching that movie, but that it would upset Theon. Sure, there is the part where the dad fish discovers that a barracuda ate his wife and their eggs, leaving only Nemo. And when the nice vegetarian shark becomes a killing machine after sniffing just a few drops of blood. And when Nemo gets caught in the tank filter and nearly becomes fish chum. And when… crap, that’s a kid’s movie?

“It was weird. He is fine through most of the movie, I go to the bathroom, and when I come back, he’s crying and shouting, ‘That’s me, that’s me, like that, like that, stupid fish.’’”

_ Oh. Right. _ Robb gets it. The “stupid” fish would be Dory, the one who couldn’t remember things. If it comes up again, Robb will just remind Theon that yes, Dory was forgetful, but she also was fearless, loyal, and resourceful. Assuming he does remember what made him upset in the first place.

It is at that precise moment that Theon reappears, his bag over his shoulder, a big grin on his face. “Bye, ‘sha!” He hugs her. She returns the hug.

“Bye bro. Behave yourself, OK?”


	8. 'Cause You Do It Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it the right time for sexy times?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing". Sexual things happen. Also, this is the chapter where issues of consent are brought up. Reader discretion is advised.

As usual, when Robb crawls under the covers, Theon is already there. Trying not to disturb Theon’s sleep, Robb plants a light peck on the back of his neck.

But Theon is not asleep. Without warning, he rolls over and kisses Robb in the mouth, hard.

Robb is too stunned to say anything. The words that come out of Theon’s mouth shock him even more.

“Let’s fuck,” he whispers in a throaty voice. Underneath the covers, he is completely naked. With something resembling his old grin, he takes Robb’s hand in his and places it between his legs. He kisses Robb again, harder than before. “Want... this.  _ Need _ this,” he says with difficulty.

The first thing that goes through Robb’s head is that he must be dreaming. But Theon’s breath, his lips, the feel of his skin on Robb’s hand are all very real.

The next thought is straightforward.  _ Yes. Let's.  _ He kisses Theon back, grinds against him.

But a voice at the back of Robb’s mind won't shut up and let him enjoy himself.  _ How do you  _ know _ if he is ready for this?  _ If they are going to do this, he has to know. And now, before things get too far.

“Theon, Theon,” he says. It’s enough to get Theon’s attention. He stops kissing Robb’s neck and looks at Robb with something resembling apprehension.

If only Robb knew how to ask. Whatever, he'll improvise. “I want to do this too, but–”

Theon grins and goes back to what he was doing. Robb takes him gently by the chin and makes him look up. “Theon! If you want to do this, tell me why.”

Theon looks confused as hell. “Never asked… me before. Am I wrong?” He shuts his eyes, from effort or embarrassment Robb can't tell. “Did something–?”

“Oh, no, absolutely not!” Robb strokes Theon’s hair. “I just want to make sure you know what you are doing.” Theon pulls away, looking offended. “I mean, that you understand… what you want to do. Andthat you are ready.”

Theon doesn't say anything. He stares at Robb long enough to make him uncomfortable. Then he scoots back to Robb’s side, reaches under the waistband of Robb’s boxers, and starts stroking him.

Robb is unprepared for how his body responds. His skin tingles, his heart beats faster and a whimper escapes his throat. Whatever self-restraint he had left disappears when he hears what Theon whispers in his ear.

“I get this. Want… want you.”

It’s not going well. Robb is doing his best to pretend otherwise, but it’s not going well.

He might as well be with a stranger. Things that used to make Theon go crazy in bed just don’t make him respond like before. Robb has to make more of an effort, spend more time teasing and touching for Theon to get fully hard.

“Am I... am I doing something wrong?” Robb finally asks.

Theon shakes his head. His earlier enthusiasm is gone.

“It’s OK. We just need to take it slow, OK?” Robb smiles. He sits up, wrapping Theon in his arms. Theon lays his head on Robb’s shoulder and goes limp.

“We can stop. We don’t have to do this.”

“No!” Theon yells, startling Robb. Why is Theon so insistent? OK, if Theon needs this, Robb will play along.

“How do you want this?” Theon just gives a blank look in response. “You want to be on top or on bottom?”

“Uh…can't, can't decide.”

“Want me to decide?” Theon nods. “Might be easier if you are on bottom. Is that OK? You don’t…”

“Yes. Top. You top.”

They position themselves. Robb grabs a half-empty bottle of lube from the nightstand.

_ I am overthinking this.  _ “Listen. If you want to stop...”

“No. Red, red...” Theon snorts in frustration. “Ready.”

Robb pours out some of the lube on his fingers, takes a deep breath. He carefully inserts one lubed finger, not too deep. He works slowly, adding more lube as needed, and making sure to warn Theon when he adds a second finger. Then a third. He strokes himself as well. Pleasure, his own, is not a priority right now. He will get the job done or else. Theon wants this. So does he.

“Are you ready?” he asks, panting.

Theon just nods.

Robb enters as slowly as he can, keeping an eye on Theon’s face for any warning signs. Theon gasps.

“This will feel good, I swear.”

Theon closes his eyes. Robb kisses him.

“You are doing good. You are doing great.” More kisses. He closes his eyes. It's been...how long?  _ Too long.  _ He needs this.

He can't think straight anymore. He thrusts deeper and deeper each time, losing himself, letting go of his worries. Underneath him, Theon is breathing hard, moving his hips in rhythm, biting his lip. Good.

“You good? This OK?” Robb doesn’t wait for an answer. Little by little he becomes less and less aware of his surroundings. This is where he wants to be. So near the edge. So fucking close...

And then Theon screams.

Horrified, Robb pulls out and gets off of Theon. What has he  _ done _ ?

“I am sorry.  _ I am so sorry _ ! What is it? Did I hurt–”?”

Theon screams again like someone in a horror movie, his eyes squeezed shut, his hands over his ears. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! CAN’T THINK! STOP!” He sits up, covering his face with his hands.

Robb backs away so fast he nearly falls off the bed. He is going to make this right. He  _ has _ to.

“I am sorry, whatever it was, it’s going to… It will be OK,” he babbles. Without thinking, Robb tries to put his hand on Theon’s shoulder.

Theon looks up, his face contorted in an ugly scowl. “Don’t!” he yells, swatting away Robb’s hand. He gets off the bed and stumbles to the bathroom.

Robb follows him but by the time he gets there, the door is shut. He tries the knob but it won't budge. “Theon, open the door, please.” Silence. He knocks. “Open the door, we can talk about this!”

“No!” Theon yells back. Something hits the door from the inside.

“Theon, open the door right now or…”

“Get… out!” More crashing, followed by the sound of ripping.

What  _ is _ going on in that bathroom? Robb grinds his teeth, knocks on the door. “I swear, I'll kick the door down if you don't open it!” He knocks again, hard enough to bruise his knuckles.

“STOP! Stop, PLEASE! I...can't, just stop, just go!”

“Then open the fucking door!” He rattles the doorknob.

“Go… away, please.” Theon’s voice cracks. From outside the door, Robb can hear ragged sobbing. He falls to his knees, feels sick.  _ I did this. I did this to him.  _ He means to fix this. But if he is serious about this, he needs a cool head. Shouting or threatening will only make things worse.

He pulls on the well-worn sweats he was going to sleep in. It’s harder to handle conflicts with no pants on. He sits on the floor by the bathroom door; Theon’s sobs are still audible.

“Theon?” he asks in a soft voice. “Let me in, please?” He hears a muffled “no”. “I am sorry. Believe me. I don't know what it was but I would take it back if I could…” He has to stop and pull himself together. “Could you at least unlock the door? I am worried about you. I just want to make sure you are OK. I won't come in unless you ask me to, I promise.”  _ Or unless I have reason to believe you are not safe. _

Theon mumbles something Robb can't make out. “What did you say?”

“My. Pants... Need my pants.”

Robb nods to nobody and picks up the pajama bottoms in a corner. He drops them by the door and sits back down.

The door creaks open just enough for Theon’s hand to reach out for the pants Robb has dropped. It shuts closed, but Robb doesn't hear the lock turn.

“I meant it. I won't come in unless–”

The door flies open again. Theon is on his knees. He looks as bad as Robb feels, with swollen, bloodshot eyes. He crawls out and curls up outside the bathroom, at the opposite side of the doorframe where Robb is sitting.

Robb takes a quick peek inside the bathroom. The shower curtain is hanging from only two of the rings in the rod. As far as he can tell, Theon must have tried to rip the curtain off the rod. He must also have hurled the shampoo bottle and other toiletries around. At least there is no broken glass.

“Oh The–”

“Shut up,” Theon whispers.

Right.

A few minutes pass, both of them just sitting in an awkward silence. Theon starts sniffling again. “Sorry.”

“It’s OK, we can pick it up, and I’ll fix the curt–?” Theon shakes his head frantically. “It’s not the bathroom you are sorry for, is it.” More head-shaking and sniffing. “I don't get it. You have done nothing you need to be sorry about.”

“Yes you have, don't you get it?” Shit, he’s messing up with his pronouns, that won't help. “I keep–” The right word fails him, but he won't let that stop him, “–bla, bla, bla. I can't think with so much… speak!” He punches the wall. “And I need to think. I never had to think when…. when… when FUCKING!”

Robb’s cheeks burn in shame. He thought he was helping by telling Theon he was doing well. All he did was create a distraction. Something Theon does not need.

“I wanted to make… you… feel, feel good, but you are sad! I messed up.”

“And I wanted to make YOU feel good. I thought things were OK until you screamed.” Robb winces just from remembering that sound.

“Good. I was… was good. This!” Theon wails.

“Good? At sex? You were more than good. Magnificent.” Theon chuckles, then sniffles at the same time. Robb puts his hand within Theon’s reach but doesn't actually touch him. Theon doesn't take the offered hand, but he moves closer.

“Remember when you woke up? Back in the hospital, I mean? You could not walk or talk. Now look at you.”

Theon makes a face.

“I know. You still have trouble with speaking. But you  _ can _ speak. And you are getting better. Yes, you had to learn again from the beginning, you had to practice…”

He realizes immediately what he just implied. It takes Theon a little longer but when he gets it, he laughs. “Practice… sex? Learn sex again?”

Robb rolls his eyes. “That. Is not what I said. But you know, the point is… you didn’t wake up being able to do all the things you were able to. You had to work at it. Same thing with this. We just have to take it one step at a time, figure out things…”

“Like what?”

“You know,” Robb says, hesitating before continuing, “the things you can and cannot do. Maybe we’ll have to make a few adjustments how we do things when we are together. Not just you,” he blurts out. “I have to learn too. How I can make you feel good, now that things are... different. Because I want you to be happy.”

Theon is not smiling anymore. “What if, I can'? Do... this again? Will… you want? No, not want.” He shakes his head as the right word eludes him again. “… Love. Love me?”

Robb just stares at Theon. Now he’s the one who’s lost at words. “How could you… how could you think that? That's not what I love about you. That’s not  _ why  _ I love you. When you got hurt, and I almost lost–” he chokes out. “I wanted you to wake up so bad, I would have traded places with you. And when the doctor told me that even if you woke up, you might not walk or talk again…” He doesn’t say what he was going to say,  _ And I didn’t care, as long as you were alive _ . He can’t. If he does, he is going to break down in front of Theon. And that just can’t happen now.  _ I am going to stay calm and in control. Calm and in control. I am on top of the situation. I am not going to lose it. Not now I am not going to break down I will stay calm and in control of my emotions it’s not fair I have to don’t let it break… _

Theon crawls until he is right next to Robb. He tugs at Robb’s head until it is resting on his leg. One hand strokes Robb’s shoulder, another his head.

Robb can’t hold it in anymore. All his efforts, all the deep breathing, everything fails him. He breaks down like he hasn’t since Theon was at the hospital.

The only thing that he registers right now is the calming effect of Theon’s fingers on his scalp. And Theon’s halting words in his ears. “It’s going to be OK. Don’t… be sad.”

How long do they stay like this?

Robb is not crying anymore, but he feels so comfortable, so right where he is. He looks up. Theon is very still, might even be asleep.

“Theon. Theon, sweetie. Wake up.” He snaps his fingers. Theon’s eyes pop open. “Why don’t we go to bed? I have work tomorrow and you have your rehab.”

“Could... we get cream? Frozen cream?”

Frozen cream? Oh, right.

“Oh,  _ ice  _ cream… I don’t think we have ice cream.”

Theon groans in displeasure. “Could we go some?”

“Get some? It’s kinda late… “

The corners of Theon’s mouth turn down.

“Tell you what, let's see what we got.”

There's no ice cream. The closest thing they have is some plain yogurt that Robb bought to make dip but forgot to use. But Theon’s face lights up. He starts searching through the refrigerator and emerges with the frozen berries and the hazelnut coffee creamer that Robb’d bought on sale, and the yogurt.

“Throw in the…” he says, making a swirling motion with his fingers.

“The blender? You are thinking smoothies?” Theon nods. Robb gulps. “Why the creamer? Why not use milk?”

Theon makes a face. “Smell it,” he says, holding it out.

Gross. “I’ll take your word for it, thanks.” He glances at the creamer with trepidation. Seriously, with that creamer’s chemical aftertaste, its label should read “hazelnut, allegedly”. That creamer is awful, bargain be damned. But he refuses to admit it was a bad purchase so he makes himself use it every day

What the hell. They throw all ingredients in the blender, along with some ice cubes. Robb adds a teaspoon of vanilla and a generous helping of honey. Theon is way too excited about pressing the ON button. Afterwards, he tastes a spoonful of the thick, slushy concoction and gives the thumbs-up sign. Then he pours it out into two tumblers and pushes one toward Robb. “It’s good,” he says, grinning. He seems to like it, so Robb steels himself, takes a tiny sip. Then a bigger one. It’s not exactly tasty but it's not terrible either. He can still detect the chemical aftertaste, but the berries and the honey cover it up for the most part.

“It’s interesting,” he says. Theon looks confused. No wonder.  _ Interesting  _ is not necessarily a compliment when it comes to food. “Interestingly good, I mean,” he hastens to add.

“I like it,” Theon says with a grin. “It is what is. What it… what it  _ is _ ,” he says, emphasizing the  _ is _ . He looks happy with himself.

_ So are we _ , Robb muses much later when they are both in bed. Just like Theon, who despite all he has lost, at the core still is who he is. Like Robb himself, who has changed in his own way. And what they are to each other and what they have. It is what it is.


	9. Learning Curve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Practice, practice, practice (yes, talking about sex)

They do follow through with their plan to once again have a sex life. In his head, Robb calls it Operation Fireworks. They initially call their encounters “sex lessons”, then settle for “sessions”. All other names they come up with are cheesy, crude without being funny, or plain awful. Their sessions only take place when both of them are in the mood. Fortunately, even though some nights Theon is too fatigued or Robb is too worked up over something at work, they still manage to engage in a session at least a couple of times a week. Robb is enough of a dork to keep a journal where he documents their progress. Date, time, what they do, results. Depending on the outcome, he’ll scrawl happy faces or sad faces.

They take things one step at a time. For the first few sessions, all they do is make out on the couch like teenagers, clothes still on. Nothing happens, well, not “technically”, anyway. It's fine, Robb tells Theon, who looks a bit skeptical. They need to get comfortable with each other's bodies like they used to be.Once they are both ready for the next step, they move on to letting their hands wander. This is followed by “hands on other places” and “mouths doing things other than kissing”. The sessions are a bonding experience, to say the least.

It is harder for Theon than either of them cares to admit. After all, he’s had to relearn everything he once knew how to do in bed. His shorter attention span and lower tolerance for frustration don’t help.

For both of them, it is a learning process. In general, Theon can be sensitive about accepting or asking help. But when he struggles to take his clothes off, Robb doesn’t offer to help. Instead, he acts as if he is so horny, he just can’t wait to get Theon naked. Like Theon is doing  _ him  _ a favor by letting him help. Theon pretends he doesn’t know what Robb is doing. It's a comfortable fiction.

But they keep trying, no matter what.

Of course there are times when for whatever reason, the session does not end as desired. Theon still gets angry and feels sorry for himself, but it doesn’t last, and it never gets as bad as the first time they tried. And Robb makes sure to keep the freezer stocked with frozen yogurt, in case they need comfort food.

Eventually they get to the “final exam”. They experiment with positions, who does what to whom, lights or no lights. Robb agrees on keeping talking and other distractions to a minimum. Instead, they figure out other ways of communication. A brief squeeze of Theon’s hand to encourage him. A squeeze in return to let Robb know he is OK. They even pick out a safeword and a nonverbal signal to make sure they can course correct and if necessary, stop. Robb tells Theon that no matter how things turn out, they have plenty of opportunities to try again. Theon just places a finger on his lips. “Right,” Robb whispers.

They start slowly. Kisses, first gentle, then passionate. For a change, Robb does not overthink it. He just allows himself to explore Theon’s body with his hands, his tongue, and his lips like it is brand new to him. The faded scars on his knees from the falls off his skateboard as a kid, that birthmark on his neck, the dimple left by the brow ring he used to wear in college. All of it.

After trying a few things that are likely to work, they stumble on a winning combination. Robb’s heart is beating faster and faster as he thrusts. He keeps himself in check until Theon’s moans change in pitch. Once he senses Theon’s own release, he lets himself go. His mind goes blank. And then he feels Theon go limp beneath him. For a minute he is afraid; did Theon black out or something?

It’s worse. There are tears leaking out of Theon’s eyes and his chest is heaving with pent-up sobs.  _ No, no, no.  _ “Theon?” he asks, his heart in his throat.

But Theon does not respond, not with words anyway. Instead, one corner of his mouth turns up and he starts… laughing? Robb is confused as hell. “Are you OK?” he asks, stroking Theon’s cheek.

Theon tries to talk, but it takes him a while. “Hap...happen. Good,” he manages, before continuing to laugh and cry. “I am good.”

Robb just sighs. “You are good. The best.” He punctuates his words with a kiss.

* * *

It’s going to be a surprise. Theon is going to love it. 

It’s been a while since Theon mentioned for the first time that he wants to ride his bicycle again at some point. And it clearly matters, because he brings it up at least every few days. 

One day, when Robb is in the garage and sees both their bikes gathering dust, he gets an idea. The next time Theon spends the weekend at Asha’s, Robb takes both their bikes to the shop for tuning up. While the mechanics do their thing, he browses the shop and finds a training device that turns a regular bicycle into an stationary bike. On impulse, he buys it. That way, Theon can practice riding in the safety of the apartment and build up his strength and balance. With enough time, he should be able to ride just like he used to. He knows Theon will love it, but that’s not the reaction he gets. Instead, to Robb’s chagrin, Theon gets angry. “Think I can’t ride!” he yells, storming out. Robb tells himself not to take it personally and to wait it out. Sure enough, in fifteen minutes, Theon comes to apologize and thanks Robb for setting it up. He tries it out at Robb’s insistence. He comes close to falling off a few times, making Robb cringe. But when he actually gets off, he is grinning. He even agrees to wear a helmet next time, for Robb’s peace of mind.

Robb finally tosses out the hazelnut creamer. The surprisingly-not-bad smoothie experiment aside, it’s time to accept defeat. Torturing himself every morning with that thing won’t make it a worthwhile purchase. To “celebrate” this epiphany, they go to the grocery store to get ice cream. The real thing, not frozen yogurt or “non-dairy frozen dessert”. But at the supermarket, Robb just stands in front of the ice cream section for way too much time, paralyzed by all the flavors, brands, and sizes. Now he is the one who is overwhelmed by all the choices. Finally Theon intervenes. With an eye roll, he simply grabs the first tub of chocolate ice cream he sees, and drops it in their cart.  Then he grabs Robb by the wrist and tugs at him to move on.

At Jon’s suggestion, Robb hires an aide for the afternoons. Somebody who can pick Theon from his program and stay with him (not “watch” him) until Robb gets home. Things are about to get busy at work and Robb will need to put in more hours. None of the candidates he and Theon meet seem like an ideal fit. Just when Robb is about to pull out his hair, Asha gives him a referral to a friend of hers. At first glance, Osha seems less like a healthcare worker and more like a bouncer at a biker bar, with her broad shoulders and her general air of “I’ll fuck you up.” But when he actually talks to her, it’s clear why Asha recommended her. She has years of experience and has had clients with injuries similar to Theon’s. She works out great. Theon does admit to Robb that Osha reminds him of his sister.

“That whole tough chick with a heart of gold thing?”

“No, her name sounds the same.”

Robb just chuckles. They are both right.

They are still rebuilding their lives, brick by brick.

And it is enough.


End file.
